


Be Sure Your Sins...

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-07
Updated: 2003-01-07
Packaged: 2018-10-07 04:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10352370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS : The Curse, Upgrades, plus a few tiny ones for some other eps.Summary: Be sure your sins will find you out...A visitor drags up some unhappy memories from Daniel’s past... whatother events might come back to haunt him?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Be Sure Your Sins…

##  Be Sure Your Sins…

##### Written by Kaz   
Comments? Write to us at [karinstaines@freenet.co.uk](mailto:karinstaines@freenet.co.uk)

  * SPOILERS : The Curse, Upgrades, plus a few tiny ones for some other eps. 
  * Summary: Be sure your sins will find you out… A visitor drags up some unhappy memories from Daniel's past… what other events might come back to haunt him? 
  * PG [A] [D] [HC] 



* * *

"So, where's this big surprise, Sir?" Sam asked as the truck turned another corner, the lights of the town streaking past in bright ribbons. Although O'Neill wasn't forthcoming with a reply, it wasn't long before her question was answered.

"Here..." Jack said as he pulled the vehicle up in front of the large fronted bar and restaurant, 'O'Malley's' shone out in huge lettering above the glass doorway.

It looked grander than the last time SG1 had been there. Daniel thought somewhat ungenerously that the beefy owner must have done pretty well out of his settlement with the Air Force from their historic… scuffle.

"Umm, Jack," Daniel drawled anxiously, his brow furrowed in harmony with his voice. "I don't like to be a killjoy, but we're barred, remember?"

"Not anymore," Jack updated him, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "I sweet talked O'Malley yesterday. He said we could come back, as long as we stick to a corner booth and stay out of sight." He opened the driver's door and jumped onto the sidewalk.

Daniel's face cheered at the news. "Great. It's been ages since I had a decent steak."

"I heard that, Daniel," Jack chided through the still open doorway. "Next time I have a barbecue, *you* can do the cooking."

"I didn't mean it like that," Daniel said, hastily trying to recover the deteriorating situation as he too clambered from the truck. A few months ago, he might not have been quite so bothered about Jack's reaction, but the decidedly strained atmosphere that seemed to be perpetuating itself between the two men, made his heart hammer loudly in his chest.

Was Jack really mad at him, or was he reading too much into a typical O'Neill retort? He couldn't tell… and the hurt from that realization blazed an unwelcome trail through his conscience. Misunderstandings were fuelled from both sides.

Perturbed, Daniel added to the denial of perceived criticism. "It's just nice to go *out*… and… not have to… smell the meat cooking." He winced as the words left his mouth, knowing he was just digging a deeper hole for himself. Keeping his head ducked down, he rather hoped Jack might forget he was there.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "We did kind of get lost in the smoke last time, Sir." She elaborated as she pushed the door closed behind her.

Daniel dared to uncurl himself and flashed her a smile of thanks for coming to his rescue.

"Are you accusing me of burning the food?" Jack bellowed.

"NO!" Three loud voices quickly chorused in return.

"The charcoal was damp," Jack said in his defense as he tramped up the steps. Silently, the others followed him inside and into the back of the restaurant to an empty corner booth.

Absently, Daniel wondered if his friends were aware of the faces that turned toward them as they walked through the thrumming restaurant, or was he merely imagining the attention as being more acute than diners would normally pay to passers by.

The team sidled into the high backed benches either side of the table and barely a moment had passed before a waitress came across to take their order, announcing brightly, "Hi, I'm Fiona." She shuffled from foot to foot nervously as the team gave their choices, her pencil wildly fluttering over the notepad as she hurried to write everything down.

After delivering their drinks in what must have been record time, the girl hastily retreated to the kitchen.

"Is it just me or was she really keen to get away from us?" Daniel asked, taking a sip from his beer.

"You've got a bad reputation now, Danny-boy," Jack chuckled.

"It's not one I want to live up to," Daniel remarked quietly. He was still deeply ashamed of how he had acted that night. He hadn't been able to figure out why he chose to fight that bully. Normally, he wasn't in favor of resorting to violence, but some people just seemed to demand that kind of response.

Hell, he'd been up against Apophis and his lackeys… alone… and dared to provoke them, but he'd never expected to come off well in the exchange. That night at O'Malley's was different… he *knew* he could win and that thought ravaged his conscience. The fact that he knew he could beat the crap out of that guy should have been the very reason to stop himself doing it, but it was like his inner voice had been silenced. Damn those armbands. Damn Anise.

"So, Teal'c, what's it feel like to be out with a band of reprobates?" Jack quipped before tipping his beer to his lips.

Daniel remembered how Teal'c hadn't even been here when they had got into that stupid brawl, but judging by some of the lingering looks they were getting from some of the staff the imposing frame of the Jaffa was no doubt adding credibility to the tales of their victory.

Teal'c considered a response to the question. "If you are referring to the unfortunate incident that took place at this location, I do not believe you were in full control of your faculties, O'Neill."

"Oh, I think we were very much in control, weren't we, Danny?" Jack winked at the younger man.

"Stop it, Sir," Sam warned as Daniel's head dropped ashamedly, his teeth immediately laying claim to his bottom lip.

"As I remember, Carter, you got pretty well stuck into the action too…" Jack reminded her.

Even with his eyes lowered, Daniel could tell Sam was glaring at her CO. He got up to leave the table and caught the shaking of her head and motioning toward him, guiltily stopping as she realized he could see what she was doing.

O'Neill shot a hand out and caught Daniel's wrist. "Sorry," he said. "Won't mention it again." He held up three fingers on his other hand. "Scouts' honor."

"Wrong hand, Jack," Daniel corrected him, but still moved to leave. When he saw Sam's unhappy face, he cocked his head to one side in query.

"Don't go, Daniel. I'm sure the colonel didn't mean to be so…"

"I'm just going to the bathroom…" Daniel assured her, smiling as he walked away.

Sam grinned and relaxed, reaching for her soda.

By the time Daniel returned, their meals had arrived. A solitary steak covered more than half the plate at his seat, not four like had been heaped on it at his last visit. Despite the bounding appetites the armbands had given them, he wondered how he could possibly have finished up that much food at one sitting. Then again, it certainly looked and smelled delicious… perhaps it wasn't such a hard thing to understand after all.

He cut into the tender meat eagerly, but had only just put his first forkful into his mouth when a shadow loomed over the table.

Everyone glanced up expecting to see the waitress asking if the food was okay, but it was another figure blocking the light. Daniel swallowed with a gulp. "Hello, Stephen," he managed to grind out. The unchewed food lodged uncomfortably in his throat, and he gave a little cough before swallowing again.

Stephen Rayner took the final step toward the booth and leaned on the side panel.

"Daniel," he said with no affection whatsoever. "Nice to see you enjoying yourself," he added acerbically.

Daniel gave each of his team mates a quick glance before looking up at his former colleague. Slowly, he laid his knife and fork back on his plate. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"I'd like some answers..." Stephen glowered back at Daniel, everything about his expression, his manner, his stance, threatening.

"About?" Daniel's eyes widened.

"About what happened to me… and to Sarah. The truth preferably, not the load of hogwash your people tried to feed me."

"My people?" Daniel asked, genuinely astonished.

Jack fixed him with a glare and he suddenly realized Stephen must have had *other* visitors, beside himself, Janet and Sam shortly after his unlucky encounter with Osiris in Egypt. Daniel didn’t know what to say. "I-I don't think is the place..."

"I don't give a damn what you think!" Rayner seethed. "My whole life is ruined because of you." He leaned over and pointed accusingly, almost poking Daniel with the outstretched finger. "I've always had to live in your shadow, and now I've lost everything... Dr Jordan, Sarah. Our lab was destroyed and a lot of my research went with it. I want the truth about where you've been for the last five years and what really happened to me and Sarah in Egypt."

"There's not a lot I can tell you," Daniel said quietly.

"There are a lot of things that you can tell me." Stephen disagreed and finally let his anger turn physical as his hand finally made hard contact with Daniel's chest.

Daniel rocked back in his seat from the blow, but ignored the blatant provocation. He took a brief moment to wonder why he couldn't have done the same the last time he'd been here. Flicking his gaze around the room, Daniel was concerned to see people at the surrounding tables becoming interested in the altercation, so he said calmly, "Look, why don't we discuss this somewhere else?" 

"You wanna take this outside?" Stephen's voice rose as he began to roll up his shirtsleeves. "Fine by me."

A short, stocky man suddenly appeared alongside Rayner and a booming Irish accent filled the air. "You startin' somethin' again, O'Neill?" It was O'Malley, his large hands firmly planted on his broad hips, he glared at the colonel. "I warned you…"

"This... gentleman..." O'Neill looked Rayner up and down with distaste, "and I use that term loosely… was just leaving," and rose to take his arm.

"I'm not finished yet. I'm not even *started* yet. Damn you, let me go!" He shook free of Jack's grip.

Daniel stood and he tried a more placating approach with a hand on Rayner's elbow. "Stephen, please… I'm just trying to have a quiet meal with my friends." He managed to duck the fist that Stephen sent his way and kept his voice low, "This won't do you any good."

"Oh, I think it will. I am going to enjoy *this*… I wonder if your new buddies here would be quite so keen on dining with you if they knew the low down things you've done in the past..." Rayner was struggling with both O'Malley and Jack, as they attempted to remove him.

That was the last straw, Daniel's previous coolness rapidly deserted him and he let the other two men manhandle his ex-colleague, not caring anymore how rough they had to be. "Why don't you do us all a favor, Stephen? Go get in your Porsche and drive off to your next book signing." He could feel his eyes burning with rage and from Sam's mortified expression, he guessed he must look as angry as he felt. 

"No, I think these people have a right to know... Did you know he's a murderer?" Rayner virtually spat the words at him and with a shrug he was free of the hands trying to shift him as both Jack and O'Malley loosened their holds in shock at what had just been said.

"Sarah wasn't murdered..." Daniel looked at Stephen in puzzlement. He had no idea what might have been said to the man by Government officialdom, but the story he and Sam had recounted to him while in the hospital in Cairo hadn't included such a scenario.

"I'm not talking about Sarah. Though heaven knows what really happened to her. I've been thinking about that night at college. You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Daniel?" Stephen whipped round to face Jack. "Why don't you ask him how he got that scar on his chin?"

Alarmed, Daniel could feel the color draining from his face, and a cold sweat began to trace the contours of his back. "Stephen, don't do this…"

"Or how he extorted money from the Gardeners…" Stephen's voice was harsh with accusation.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Daniel sighed and slumped back in his seat.

"I saw the bills when I was helping Sarah tidy up her father's estate when he died."

"It's not what you think…" Already the memories were playing vividly inside Daniel's head.

"Then tell me… tell them." Rayner motioned toward the rest of SG-1. "If you haven't got the guts to tell them about your sordid past, then I will. You owe me, Daniel. "

"Actually, Stephen, I don't think I owe you a goddamned thing," Daniel said firmly, his blue eyes seeming to pierce the other man. Placing his hands together on the table, he dropped his head to stare intently at them instead. "But, if you really want *the truth*?"

"I do."

"About everything…"

"Yes."

"Daniel…" Jack drawled in caution to the young man.

Daniel bit his bottom lip as he held back against defending his aggrieved ego. Was he going to have to battle Jack as well now? That was just peachy… just abso-bloody-lutely appropriate considering what was happening between them lately. Surely the colonel knew him enough to trust him not to say anything he shouldn't.

Secrets… this whole sorry mess was about secrets. The secret he'd kept about the night Stephen had dragged up from a part of his life he'd buried, and a secret that had followed. His whole life now was embroiled in secrets and he hated it. It wasn't any wonder he didn't strive to make friends outside of the SGC. The risks involved in such relationships were too many to contemplate.

Take what had happened to Stephen for example, and Sarah… How pitifully long had he been back in their lives before the secrets he was privy to ensnared them?

"Ah… perhaps we'd better go, sir…" Sam suggested, looking very uncomfortable with the whole situation.

"No. It's okay, Jack, Sam." Daniel flashed eyes at O'Neill that pleaded 'Trust me'. "Perhaps Stephen's right, and you should all hear this." He gestured to the other archaeologist to bring up a chair. He sighed inwardly with relief when the other diners began to resume eating and making their own conversations, now that the sparks had ceased flying.

"Stephen, I can't tell you anything more about what happened to Sarah, or to you. You were already injured when we found you, so how am I supposed to know how you came to be like that? And Sarah… she was already gone…" He dipped his head and chewed his bottom lip briefly before continuing, "As for your other… accusations… Seeing as Sarah is…" He almost choked on the words, grimacing at the thought of what Sarah was and had to clear his throat before he spoke again. "I don't suppose it will do much harm for you to know what really happened that night."

Daniel found that the pepper pot was as good a focus as any for not having to look at anyone in particular as he recalled the time that Stephen had decided to dredge up.

"I'd been in college about a year. Sarah was a couple of years older but we began studying together and one thing kinda led to another… you know? Well, she was… ah… how shall I put this? Umm… she was used to getting her own way."

He could just imagine the look Jack had on his face just now and did his best to ignore the vision.

"Anyway, suddenly she decided she wanted to have more fun and started hanging out with some frat guys, and one night she wanted me to join them…"

//

__

Daniel's head drooped as he heard the derision in the less than quiet aside made by the boy sitting on the bright red car's hood, his feet resting on the unpolished chrome plated fender.

"Oh man, look who she brought…" Brad sighed to his companions as he spotted Sarah and Daniel walking across the parking lot. "Hey, Sarah! Didn't know you had to baby-sit tonight."

"Lay off him, Brad." Sarah stopped swinging her bag in time to her hips to grab Daniel firmly round the shoulders. "He's okay."

"He's underage…" Joe protested, unconvinced. He took a generous gulp of the contents of a bottle still in its brown wrapping.

"We're all underage…" Sarah reminded the boys. She held her hand out for the liquor and had a sip before passing it to Brad.

"Yeah, but he *looks* it…" Brad said disgustedly, then he had his turn at the drink. The two other boys laughed and after a moment's hesitation, Sarah joined them.

Brad poked Daniel in the chest with the bottle. "Want some, kid?"

Daniel shook his head and caught hold of Sarah's arm. "Maybe we should go…"

"No way. They're just testing you out." Her voice held a trace of teasing. "It'll be fun. Come on." Sarah pulled Daniel into the back of the car Brad said he had borrowed for the evening. Daniel knew there was more to it than that by the emphasis the older boy had put on the word 'borrowed'. He really didn't want to be here, but Sarah did. In a country and educational system that was relatively new to her, Sarah had been determined to fit in. In the early days of their coursework, she had latched onto the younger boy and he'd been flattered by the attention, but Sarah had a streak of rebelliousness that she kept well hidden from tutors and parents. Daniel thought that if nothing else he could keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't end up in any trouble with this bunch of losers that she seemed to think were so cool to be seen with.

He watched Sarah as she quickly preened her flowing curls before depositing her brush back in her purse and dropping it into the foot-well. "How do I look?" she asked and smiled brilliantly at him.

Daniel felt his cheeks flush and stammered, "G-great…"

Joe plopped heavily into the seat beside him and nudged his arm. "All right, lover boy?" he leered.

Daniel almost gagged on the smell of cheap beer the other boy breathed into his face as he leered at him.

Brad drove and the other boy in the front passenger seat… Paul, was it? Paul had taken charge of the precious bottle of booze.

The car screeched and lurched all over town and Daniel felt sure it was only a matter of time before they were stopped by the police. He could only hope…

Brad looked over his shoulder and called, "Hey, Danny, you seen any alien's lately?" He sniggered and shook Paul's arm, eliciting a similar response from the other boy.

"My name is Daniel," Daniel corrected him slowly, no way was this jerk going to get away with calling him 'Danny'. He turned to glare at Sarah, being the only one he'd told of his budding theory, she had to be the source of Brad's information and no doubt she'd also shared the joke.

"Oh, come on, Daniel," she said. "You've got to admit your theory sounds a little crazy."

Daniel glared at her again. There was nothing *crazy* in his idea as far as he was concerned. Unconventional? Certainly. The crazy ones were those that refused to acknowledge the evidence that was there for all to see, if only anyone could be bothered to look at it with an unbiased eye.

"Wanna drive?" Brad called to him again.

"No." Daniel refused flatly. "I don't have a license yet."

Brad burst into a loud guffaw, the other boys bending over, holding their stomachs. "You think we do?" Brad called back, still laughing hard. "Ooops…" he said as the car scraped along a parked truck and wrenched the wheel to veer the vehicle back into the middle of the road.

"Actually, I do," Joe announced and they all seemed to think his confession was just as funny as Daniel's contrary one. The car wobbled and lurched along the road as once again the older boys succumbed to fits of rough laughter.

"Sarah…" Daniel looked to her beseechingly, hoping she would see what he did and would let them get out of this.

"What about you, Sass?" Brad yelled over the squeal of brakes as he brought the car to a halt.

Daniel rolled his eyes and mouthed, 'Sass?' at the girl.

"Hey, yeah sure!" she said excitedly.

Daniel caught the girl's arm as she started getting out of the car. "Sarah, what are you doing?"

"You can be such a bore sometimes." She shrugged his hand off and laughed.

"Why do you hang around with that kid, Sass?" Brad grabbed hold of her waist and spun her, pecking her on the cheek as she bent to get into the driver's seat.

"Sarah, you can't drive," Daniel implored her again.

"I'll do what I want," she answered defiantly, starting the car. "If you don't like it you can always get out."

"Yeah, let's move, Sass. Go home to bed, kid, isn't it past your bedtime?" Paul leant over the headrest to goad the younger boy.

Daniel pouted and gave the other boy an incensed glare. "I'm staying."

"He wants to play with the big boys!" Paul sang out, the others all screeching with laughter.

Daniel sat squeezed in the middle of the back seat between Brad and Joe.

The car screeched away. Sarah threw her head back and her long hair tumbled over her face, making her laugh more.

As the car raced through the streets, Daniel shrugged out of his squashed position and leaned forward, his chin resting on the driver's seat as he tried to get Sarah to stop.

"Shut up, geek!" she turned to yell back into his face.

Stunned at her mean tone, Daniel sharply averted his eyes and noticed something moving into their path. "Sarah, look out!" he cried, pointing ahead of them.

A few yards up the road an old lady pushing a cart had stepped off the sidewalk and obliviously continued to walk across the road.

Sarah spun to face forward again and seeing the woman, stamped her foot hard on the brake. Too late. "Shit!" she shrieked. The car slewed as the wheels locked, but the momentum carried it forward. There was a thud as the car slammed into the old lady. Her body flew up over the hood and slid off to the side, leaving a smudge of blood over the now shattered windshield. 

"Stupid bitch!" Sarah screamed at the reflection in the mirror of the woman rolling around in the road amongst the items that had spilled from her overturned cart.

As Sarah fought hopelessly with the steering, the car rammed into a road sign. With the sudden stop, Daniel was thrown through the gap in the seats, his glasses flying forward, smacking against the dashboard. His chin caught on the seam of vinyl down the side of the seat causing a jagged tear in his skin that left a dark smear on the upholstery and sent blood streaming down his neck.

Shaken, all his senses jarred by the impact, Daniel lay wedged in position as he slowly regained control of his body. Dimly, he could hear voices raised in alarm.

"Let's get outta here before the cops arrive," Joe bawled and the boys began to climb out of the wrecked car.

Daniel cranked his eyes open and started to rise from his awkward position. He caught a glimpse of Sarah's eyes, wide with terror. She was trembling as she shrieked to the other boys, "Wait!" but Paul and Joe were already heading into a dark wide alley that led behind some closed shops.

Sirens sounded in the distance, growing closer. Brad appeared and wrenched open the driver's door.

"H-how is she?" Sarah asked.

"You don't wanna know," he told her. "Let's go."

"Come on, Daniel!" Sarah turned to tug at the younger boy who dazedly wiped at his bloody chin as he forced himself between the seats.

As the sirens neared, Brad yanked Sarah from the car. She tottered unsteadily on her heels, her head swiveling to and fro the clutter in the road and the car.

Brad held out a hand to Daniel who grabbed for it gratefully, and began to use it to pull himself free. But instead of helping the younger boy from the car, Brad shoved him down into the driver's seat.

Realizing something was amiss, Sarah grabbed Brad's arm and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Getting us out of this mess," he replied as he continued to manipulate Daniel's still groggy form.

"No!" Sarah cried and she leaned forward to tug at her friend.

"Do you wanna go down for murder?" Brad yelled back at her, pushing her hand away.

"M-m?" Sarah couldn't even speak the word as she looked back to the smashed cart and the crumpled body beside it.

"What're y' doin'?" Daniel slurred, his glazed eyes seeking out Sarah's terrified ones.

Brad took hold of Daniel's hair and slammed his face into the steering wheel, breaking his nose and knocking him senseless.

"Quick!" Brad finished placing Daniel's feet in the foot-well and grabbed Sarah by the arm. 

Unable to rally his senses, Daniel rolled his head to one side, just enough to see Sarah taking a last look back at him. The haze of a concussion coupled with the loss of his glasses denied him a view of the expression she wore, as she scuttled off into the alley with Brad.

Bright flashing lights and loudly whining sirens assailed Daniel's aching head.

He slumped further over the steering wheel, his arms hanging loosely by his side.

A policeman warily approached the open driver's door, his sidearm at the ready. "Hold it right there, kid!" he called to the slowly rousing boy.

Daniel turned groggily, blood streaming down his face, and peered worriedly at the officer.

The other policeman looked up from where he was bent over the old lady's still form. "She's dead."

A hand on Daniel's shoulder startled him. "You're in big trouble, kid."

"W-wasn't d-driving," Daniel told the officer at his side. Even to the young man's still ringing ears his voice was slurred and nasal. His head was throbbing and streaks of searing pain rocketed through his nose whenever he moved. Shakily he brought a hand up to try to stop the torrent of blood from his nostrils.

"Oh yeah, sure you weren't, buddy. What's this?" The policeman pushed Daniel back against the seat and held him there while he reached over and picked up the discarded bottle still in its brown paper bag. "DWI too, huh?"

"No…" Daniel gasped. His head felt thick, but even in his concussed state, he could put as many twos and twos together as the officer could and was coming up with all the wrong numbers as well. He had to make the man see he was innocent.

Another siren could be heard. "Looks like the ambulance'll be here in a minute. They'll fix you up okay, though I can't say as you deserve it. They're gonna throw the book at you for this..." The officer shook his head, in a reprimanding fashion. "I got a kid, bit younger than you. God, if he ever did something like this… Have you thought about how ashamed your parents are gonna be?"

"Dead…" Daniel said simply, but the officer misunderstood.

"Yep, she's dead. You killed her, son."

"No…" That wasn't what he meant. It was so hard to think, even harder to put coherent words together harder still to make those words sound like they were supposed to. "You… have to… believe me, please."

The officer looked quizzically at the young man and then leaned closer. Daniel heard him sniff a few times.

"You haven't been drinking, have you?" the officer concluded, his brusque manner fading.

"N-noo…" As Daniel tried to shake his head to emphasize his testament a wave of nausea flooded him and he seemed to be looking at the policeman through a closing tunnel. Blearily, Daniel could see the man looking more closely at the interior of the car.

The officer reached into the back of the car and pulled out Sarah's bag. He eyed it curiously. "Here, kid," he finally said, with more sympathy than he had previously shown, and he patted a handkerchief against the hand under Daniel's nose.

Daniel gratefully clutched at it, scrunched it up and held it in place. "Oh God, please… believe me. I… wasn't driving…" he managed to rasp, before the edges of the darkness met. He felt his head loll heavily to the side as a sudden roar built in his ears and then there was only silence…

//

Gaze still fixed on the pepper pot, which he had unconsciously taken to twiddling around with his fingers some moments before, Daniel wound up his narration of the story from his past.

"Luckily, that officer made sure that all the right forensic evidence was gathered from the car. There were none of my fingerprints on the steering wheel or gearshift. I hadn't been drinking and yet there was vodka spilled on the seat and the floor. They found my blood on the back of the driver's seat, which couldn't have got there if I had been in front. Then there was Sarah's bag of course and some of her hair on the headrest. And apparently there was more than one witness from along the route Sarah had taken that described the driver as a woman and with the car being full of passengers."

At long last Daniel looked up into each of his companions' eyes, finishing with Stephen. "If it hadn't been for that policeman, they would have locked me up and thrown away the key. As it was…"

_  
_

//

Sarah had ushered Daniel quickly into the kitchen as soon as she had buzzed the visitor in to the building. He sipped awkwardly at his coffee. The packing in his nose was at best uncomfortable and at worst a downright choking hazard. Unless he got his breathing just right when he wanted to drink, he ended up with a lungful of hot liquid… painful and terrifying enough in itself, but the coughing it brought on turned the almost constant ache across his face into unbearable flares which radiated through his skull.

He stood brooding in the corner, unable to refrain from listening to the strained conversation between father and daughter filtering in from the apartment's living space.

"I've sorted everything out, Sarah. You don't need to worry anymore. The police have dropped all the charges." Chaz Gardner's bass tones managed to boom even through the pulled-to door.

"What? How?" Sarah's astonishment was clear.

"Oh, I persuaded them that it would be in their best interests to disregard the evidence they have against you as circumstantial and they haven't anything on anyone else, since that self-righteous cop managed to eliminate Jackson from the case. So, it'll be just one more hit and run to add to the statistics. You're lucky it was a tramp with no one to give a damn, or it might not have been so easy."

"Wow," Sarah breathed. "I don't know what to say…"

"Well, 'thank you' would be nice… and a hug," Gardner teasingly chastised his daughter.

Daniel could hear the muffled 'thank you' and he imagined Sarah's face buried against the big man's chest as she obeyed him.

"It's alright, sweetheart. I can't really blame you for what happened, but you should start to rethink the company you've been keeping."

Daniel thought he couldn't agree more, but he was stunned when he heard his own name mentioned, instead of the other boys.

"You should stay away from that Jackson kid in future."

Daniel couldn't remain in hiding any longer. He hated deception and apparently there had been enough duplicity already. Taking a deep breath he stepped into the living area of Sarah's apartment.

Gardner took a stride backward from his daughter's embrace as Daniel entered the room and there was a moment of regard for his appearance. The stinging from the stitches in his chin and the dull throb around his blackened eyes climbed up a notch under the scrutiny.

"What's *he* doing here?" Gardner demanded, pointing vehemently at the young man.

"We're studying together," Daniel explained and waved a hand over to the table where their books and papers were strewn in an almost organized chaos.

"That boy's trouble, Sarah." Gardner spoke as if Daniel wasn't in the room at all. "I don't want you seeing him again."

"How can I avoid him?" the girl asked indignantly. "He's doing the same major."

"We can soon see about that. I never wanted you taking archaeology in the first place. What kind of career is that for a girl like you?"

"It's my life…"

"Damned right it is and I'm not going to let you waste it digging in the dirt. It's not what your mother or I envisaged for you and neither is *he*." That finger came flying back out in Daniel's direction and he flinched at the movement. "He's going nowhere. You only have to look at what his nutcase of a grandfather has published to know that. God knows what that old fool Jordan sees in him. I think a financial word or two to the faculty might help them decide they need new blood in that department." Scheming obviously well underway in his mind, the man fell silent.

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Sarah screamed back at her father.

Daniel watched the exchange with a mixture of fury and amusement. Gardner had no right to belittle Nick, even if it was true and how could anyone be so small-minded as to tar him with the same brush without knowing anything about him. Then again, if Chaz knew anything about his daughter, he should know that she would get her own way. She always did. That's how they'd come to get into such a mess in the first place.

Part of Daniel wanted to defend himself and his family, but the argument was between Sarah and her father. The stronger feeling was not to get involved, it would only make matters worse.

"You heard didn't you?" Gardner was speaking to him now.

Well, that was an improvement anyhow, at least his presence was being acknowledged at last.

"Excuse me?" Daniel asked, unsure of what was being asked of him.

"You heard me tell Sarah that the police had been taken care of."

"Yes, but…"

"How much is it gonna take then?"

"What?"

"How much do you want to keep quiet?"

"You're offering me money so that I won't tell anyone about you bribing the police?" Daniel asked incredulously, as if saying it out loud would somehow explain the concept. He shook his head. "I'm not into those kind of games, Mister Gardner. I don't *want* anything."

"Sure you do. Scholarship money only stretches so far…"

"I manage." Daniel pouted defiantly. Sure, like he managed last term… without more than a sandwich or a bowl of soup a day for the last three weeks and spending all night in the library because he'd had to let his room go when he'd needed to get a new pair of glasses.

"Everyone has a price, Jackson. I want to make sure you can never hold this against Sarah." Gardner circled Daniel

"*Why* would I do that?"

"Like I said, everyone has a price. Maybe your eyes are clouded by love now, but what happens when it all turns sour, eh? I've seen it all before…"

"Then maybe *you* should change the company you keep," Daniel told him, scornfully. "I don't agree with what you've done, but I know well enough that nothing I do or say will change the way it's been handled and I would never do anything to hurt Sarah. You're the one doing that."

"Why you cheeky little…" Gardner made a move toward the boy, his hand raising.

"Dad!" Sarah implored her father and then turned to Daniel. "Just go, Daniel, I'll sort things out here."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" the boy asked, one wary eye still on her father.

"He's my dad. Of course I'll be okay, now go." She gave him a hug and whispered in his ear. "I'll see you in the library, tonight."

Daniel shoved his work into his rucksack and left.

//

Daniel took a sip of his beer. He could chatter for hours and his throat wouldn't suffer, but tonight he seemed to have talked himself dry. Presuming it had something to do with the emotions dragged up with the memories, Daniel pressed ahead to conclude the story. He just hoped it would silence Stephen's accusations.

"That's the last I heard of the conversation, until the next time I went to pay my college fees. They'd been paid… all of them, right up to the end of the course. I knew who'd done it and I tried repeatedly to send Sarah's father the money, but the cheques were never cashed. I didn't see the point in telling Sarah and I guess Chaz didn't either."

Looking directly at his former colleague, Daniel pitched his closing speech. "I hope you're satisfied with the answer, Stephen. Sorry to disappoint you, if it wasn't the tale of debauchery you'd hoped for. No one was ever supposed to hear it, but I doubt you'll do anything to defile Sarah's name now."

Stephen didn't answer. While it looked as if he didn't want to believe the archaeologist's story, it was obvious he knew deep down that Daniel would not lie, and his face twitched in humiliation as he met Daniel's gaze.

"Well, now that story time is over, isn't it about time you were going?" Jack told him, undiplomatically.

Without a word, Stephen got up and started to walk away.

"An apology would be nice," Jack called sarcastically at the retreating figure.

"Jack..." Daniel watched the dejected stoop of Rayner's shoulders as he wound round the tables to the door.

"Are you okay, Daniel?" Sam asked, reaching forward to put a hand on his arm.

Daniel sighed heavily, "Yeah." His head dipped briefly as he composed himself and came up with a small smile. He reached for his beer gratefully, upon realizing how dry his throat had become.

"There's nothing quite like mulling over old times, don't you think?" Jack mused, gesturing for the waitress to come over.

"Some things are best left forgotten," Daniel replied.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," the older man agreed.

Fiona tentatively appeared at the table. "Can I get you anything?"

"Yeah, the check, please," Jack replied.

She looked at the four almost untouched dinners sitting on the table. "Was everything okay?"

"Fine… we're just not very hungry right now."

"Jack, you should all stay… have your meal. I'm gonna…"

"I think we've all lost our appetites, Daniel. We're going to leave together."

"No." Daniel fixed Jack with an adamant yet apologetic glare. Despite his determined stance, he stammered hopelessly, "I'm sorry… I just… I really wanna be alone right now. I'll walk home. It'll help clear my head. See you guys tomorrow."

"Daniel…" Sam started, her hand going out to his arm.

"I'll be okay, Sam." Daniel smiled at her. "Thanks." He turned; Sam's hand falling away as he did so, and made for the exit.

Jack watched the slumped shoulders heading for the door. God, what a mess. The figure disappeared from view, obscured by a group of men also leaving, though he could see the glint of glass as the door opened… and then close behind the last man. He had half-expected Daniel to have a change of heart and rejoin them. A few months ago he might have, but such a lot of crap had gone down between them all of late… Euronda, Shau'nac, the Zatarc episode, the Enkarans, the whole Sarah thing… Jack suddenly realized the enormity of the rift that had grown between him and Daniel in particular. The dejected posture of his departing team-mate had not just been about tonight's expose on the archaeologist's past life, he was sure… and it was about time he did something about it.

"I've re-ordered, sir," Sam said as she sat down.

"Huh?" Jack wondered how long he'd been staring at the doorway. He hadn't noticed Carter get up.

"I nabbed the waitress, she's going to bring us over a fresh order. I hope that was okay…"

"Umm, oh yeah, whatever," Jack mumbled, still distracted.

"Do you want a game of pool while we wait, colonel?" she asked brightly. "The table's free."

Jack's gazed followed hers to the pool table… the scene of the contretemps that had led to their ban. He froze.

"Sir?" Sam picked up on his hesitation and teased, "Are you scared you won't be able to beat me now? I know I'm good even without the armband, but you've…" her voice trailed off, aware she didn't have his attention.

Jack was still staring at the balls spread over the baize, the previous players leaving their game unfinished. Leaving… Damnit! His heart began hammering in his chest as his anxiety shot through the roof. "Did you see the guys that followed Daniel out of the door?"

"I didn't get a good look at them, sir." Sam looked from the table to Jack and back again, slowly picking up on where his thoughts were going. The color in her cheeks fading fast. "Oh my god, you don't think…?"

The three jumped to their feet and raced for the door, leaving a bemused looking waitress balancing three newly-laden plates just four feet short of their table.

O'Malley's shout from the bar hardly registered as Jack shouldered his way out of the restaurant. "You're barred for good this time, O'Neill!"

* * * * * * *

Daniel embraced the rush of cold air that smacked against him as he stepped from the restaurant. He would have savored the moment a little longer but for the heavy-footed thuds of people following through the door. Hopping aside to let the group of men pass, he plodded lazily down the steps, trying to decide which was the quickest way home.

"Got a light?"

Daniel's feet took root and he looked up. The men had stopped at the bottom of the steps and one of them was holding a cigarette toward him expectantly.

"No, sorry, I um…" he started to reply, but a feeling of dread had settled in his stomach. There was something about the way these guys were scrutinizing him that told him he'd walked into a whole heap of trouble. Working with Jack had certainly rubbed off on him… he wouldn't even have recognized the signs a few years ago. 

Unfortunately, *knowing* he was likely up to his neck in the mire, was a far-flung thing from being able to *do* anything about it. Deciding it was best to just keep walking and ignore the intimidation, he took a few steps and went to finish what he was going to say in the first place. "I don't sm…" but he didn't get chance to tell the guy any more. Without warning a thick, well-muscled arm wrapped itself around his middle, and he was dragged backward to the alley behind the bar.

"Let me go!" Daniel yelled, struggling against his captor, and losing his glasses in the battle. His assailant's other hand found his mouth, covering it completely, the fingers and thumb digging forcefully into his cheeks. He managed to get in a few sharp digs of his elbows to the man holding him, but the grasp around him just tightened, and another man grabbed his ankles. Daniel still wriggled and squirmed but it was proving to be a futile consumption of his energy. Reluctantly, he chose to cease his writhing in favor of attempting a later escape, and he let himself be carried to the back of the long alley.

Only a hint of light from the street-lamps reached the very rear of the passage where he had been taken. That and his uncorrected vision made it almost impossible for Daniel to put any details on the blurry outlines of his attackers. He squinted intently as he was stood down, but it was useless. He couldn't even make out how many of them there were.

One figure leaned in closely to him. He couldn't see anything about this man to identify him either, distorted as his visage was by the extreme closeness of his features. "Not such a smart mouth when your buddies ain't around, are ya, geek?"

Imagining the little cartoon light bulb winking on above his head, Daniel suddenly recalled who these guys were *now*, and he laughed inwardly at the rather crass thought that the bunch were likely as bad at holding grudges as Apophis. Crap… as Jack would say.

In as calm a voice as he could possibly muster while being surrounded by men, some of whom were at least twice his weight, he said, "Okay. I submit. You've had your fun… scared the crap out of me. Now, let me go and I won't say anything about this."

"You… won't… say… anything?" The man repeated slowly, eliciting a raucous chorus of gruff laughter from his companions. "By the time they find you… you won't be saying *anything*… to *anyone*… ever again," he growled maliciously and followed his words with a fist pounding into Daniel's stomach.

Daniel doubled over, the breath driven from his lungs by the sheer power of the punch, and he was almost sure the man could have shaken hands with his spine.

"What, no superpowers today?"

The huge set of knuckles came swinging at the archaeologist again, this time connecting sharply with his jaw, rattling his teeth.

"Looks like we didn't need the Kryptonite after all…" the man laughed, and as the others joined in with his amusement, the hands holding Daniel from behind shifted slightly, and he seized the chance to lunge forward.

Taking the men by surprise with his attempt to flee, he managed to run a few paces before he was mercilessly tackled to the ground. His head smacked loudly on the concrete, and he felt the skin of his brow split as stars danced across his eyes. Seconds later, he gasped at the sudden fiery torment streaking up his arm. A wave of nausea washed hotly over him, and he didn't need to be able to see his wrist to know it was broken. Winded and dazed, Daniel could do nothing but lay where he was and take what was coming to him.

Several vicious kicks found his ribs and then his kidneys, as he tried to curl himself into as small a target as possible. When the onslaught ceased, a crazy thought that his assailants had gone flittered through his mind, but it was a brief reprieve. Daniel was hauled to his feet again, this time held by a man on each side, and sucked in a tortured breath as his arm was jostled.

His head felt unduly heavy, but the sound of smashing glass snapped him to attention, and he saw the jagged edge of the broken bottle sparkle with the reflection from a distant light, seconds before it came slicing through the air toward him.

Pain… intense, piercing agony ripped into him as the makeshift weapon slashed across his stomach.

There was a shout… indeterminate and far… so far away. The grips on his arms vanished and with them went his ability to remain upright. He collapsed, hitting the ground hard in an ungainly collection of limbs, unable to prevent the cry of suffering from escaping into the cold night air.

Alone. Just as the man had promised.

Daniel couldn't move. He could feel his blood spilling… flowing hot and wet over the arm now trapped uselessly beneath his side. Shivers telegraphed indiscriminate ripples of torture throughout his rapidly chilling body.

No one would notice him here in the gloom, and by the time daylight came to reveal his resting-place, it would be too late.

He was succumbing to the morbid reality of his situation, when more hands appeared to assault him, though he soon realized these were different… not harming, but caring, gentle, assessing. He dared to hope. Opening his eyes a crack Daniel confirmed his wishful suspicions. "J-ack?"

* * * * * *

Jack stopped as soon as he reached the bottom of the steps. Damn it. Which way did they go? Shit. He hadn't even thought about the possibility of retribution from those goons when he'd persuaded O'Malley to let the team back into the bar. God, he hoped he was wrong, but all his instincts were telling him they wouldn't just find Daniel blithely sauntering home with nothing but his somber mood for company.

"This way, O'Neill." Teal'c called, setting off on whatever he had found to trail.

Silently, Jack thanked him. He knew he could rely on the Jaffa, confident in his abilities, though how Teal'c had decided it was the right way was beyond him. He followed, jogging to keep up, and didn't have to look over his shoulder to know Carter was only a foot or so behind him.

They hadn't gone far when a crunching noise from under Teal'c's hefty boot made the Jaffa look down and reposition his feet to discover what had made the sound beneath them. Jack bent beside him, picked up the mangled wire frames and watched the final piece of plastic slip from the ruined spectacles to bounce along the sidewalk.

Muffled thuds from deep into the alleyway beside them found their way to his ears, as he peered into the dark passage, he could vaguely make out shapes moving around.

The shattering of glass broke his stupor and he shouted into the alley. There was a mad scuffling of figures as the group broke up and ran down some narrow side passages, and then everyone seemed to have gone. All that was left among the boxes and dumpsters where the gang had been was a crumpled heap. But as Jack's eyes adjusted to the dimness and he got closer, he could see the shape more clearly. It had legs… and arms… and blood… blood everywhere. "Daniel…" he breathed.

Jack dashed to his friend's side, his feet crunching through the scattered shards of glass, and sank to his knees. "Carter!" he yelled. Sam wasn't far enough away to warrant the amplification, but panic overrode his volume control. "Call for an ambulance." Taking off his jacket, Jack folded it and laid it under Daniel's head.

Sam pulled her cell phone from her jacket and jabbed the tiny buttons agitatedly. "Damn," she cursed. "I'll have to go back out into the street, sir. I can't get a signal here."

Jack wanted to acknowledge her, but found he was unable to take his eyes from the battered body beside him. Stephen Rayner apparently wasn't the only one to come looking for their pound of flesh tonight.

He tugged Daniel's blood soaked shirt up, and holding one hand firmly over the most obvious wound, he probed carefully with the other, wincing when nearly every touch caused the young man to groan, or twitch in reaction. Then he noticed two slits of blue under the fluttery lashes where Daniel's previously closed eyes had been.

"J-ack?"

"Yeah, it's me," he affirmed. "Easy, buddy, Carter's getting help." Jack continued his damage assessment of the archaeologist's body. There were some rather nasty looking contusions beginning to form, setting all kinds of alarm bells off in his head about the possibility of internal injuries.

Getting Teal'c to help him carefully roll Daniel onto his back, the colonel winced at the grime-smeared cuts, scrapes and the hideously discolored lumps down the side of his face where he had hit the ground.

"Daniel Jackson, I would gladly track down the instigators of this attack, should you wish to seek retribution," Teal'c announced with great sincerity.

Startled by the loudness of the booming voice echoing off the walls, Jack looked up to see the misery of their friend's condition etched on the Jaffa's features accentuated by the moonlight's silvery gleams.

"No, Teal'c…" Daniel gasped. "There's been enough of that. It's what got me into this in the first place."

"How'd'ya figure that, Daniel?" Jack asked incredulously. He wanted to keep the archaeologist conscious… talking, if at all possible… though whether it was for Daniel's benefit or his own was a dubious distinction.

"Retribution… revenge… whatever you want to call it…" Quavering between shallow, uneven gulps of air, Daniel continued. "When we had those armbands that's what I thought I could achieve… a bit of payback for all those times when the geek got creamed. It didn't work. It wasn't the right thing to do. It never is."

"But there were… how many of them?"

"That's not the point. What I did was no better… I had the advantage last time. I would never have picked that fight if I hadn't *known* I could win. Those guys did the same… they just thought they needed more of them to give them the edge." 

Daniel yelped as Jack moved his arm. "Sorry," he told him, eyeing the swollen and misshapen wrist with a sympathetic gaze.

Jack wondered whether they should try to set the limb, but something more worrying about the archaeologist's condition was beginning to present itself. In his new position, it was easier to hear Daniel's breathing becoming irregular and wheezy. Jack felt along his ribcage, finding two places that shifted under his hand, causing the young man to groan and try to twist away.

"Lie still, Danny," Jack said, afraid that Daniel would aggravate his injuries by moving around. Sure enough, he felt the tautening of muscles before the paroxysm of coughing took hold and the inevitable surge of warmth between the fingers he still had clamped over the archaeologist's stomach.

Jack peeled his sticky, reddened hand up just enough to examine the laceration lying an inch or so above Daniel's pelvis on his left side. Beneath the blood, he could see the ragged edges of flesh torn apart by the brutal attack. He'd seen the results of broken bottle assaults before, they left ugly wounds, and this one looked deep. Deep enough possibly to have penetrated some vital stuff, but he tried to block those thoughts from his mind, so he could deal with what he could see.

Daniel's features screwed up in suffering, and he sucked in a staccato-like series of breaths, finally bringing the coughing fit under control. "Hurts," he whined.

Jack didn't hold the pitiful tone against him. "Yeah, I know, but I need to look at this, okay?"

The archaeologist didn't answer, battling albeit unsuccessfully to keep in another low groan as Jack fingers brushed over his damaged skin.

Grimacing at the extra anguish his ministrations seemed to be inflicting, the colonel surmised there wasn't much else he could do but try to stem the blood flow. "Teal'c," he called to the big man behind him. "I need something to help stop the bleeding."

The Jaffa quickly shrugged out of his jacket and shirt, ripping the latter garment into several pieces. He handed one of them to Jack, who immediately slid it under his hand to press it against the wound.

Weakly, Daniel cried out, and his legs kicked as his muscles spasmed in response to the pain.

In the darkness, the piece of shirt looked as though it had turned black, the checkered pattern completely obliterated, so sodden was it with blood. Jack held his hand out for another, which Teal'c instantly supplied, and laid it over the first.

"C-cold…" Daniel stammered, his teeth chattering in emphasis to his plight.

Teal'c picked up his discarded jacket and draped it over the archaeologist, covering the colonel's hands as he did so.

Jack, still intently pressing on the injury, didn't look up but muttered, "Thanks."

Two feet were hurriedly slapping their way down the alley. "They're on their way," Sam called as she dashed back toward them. "Hang on, Daniel," she said softly, getting down on the ground by the side of his head. Tenderly, she stroked his forehead, her fingers lingering sympathetically over the gash there and its surrounding leaden bruising.

Her other hand reached down to Daniel's uninjured one and she laced her fingers with his, gripping tightly.

Jack watched his 2IC's actions for a few moments, fascinated to see the grooves of pain soothed away from the young man's brow by her touch. Daniel seemed so relaxed, Jack risked a peek under the jacket. He applied another fresh wad on top of the others and resumed the pressure, not knowing whether he should be grateful or more concerned by the lack of response from the archaeologist as he did so. Inky spots seeped through the cloth almost immediately, but the blood flow appeared to be slowing under the weight of his hands, and Jack notched up yet another piece of his soul he now owed the devil.

Sirens sounded in the distance, drawing closer with welcome speed.

Teal'c handed the last piece of his shirt to Sam. "I shall direct the paramedics when they arrive, O'Neill."

Jack looked to the source of those words to give a grateful nod, but Teal'c had already jogging toward the street. As his gaze returned to Daniel, he noticed the young man's eyes had closed. Worried, he gently nudged the archaeologist's arm. "Help's nearly here, Danny-boy. Think you can stay with us?"

"Yeah, s-sorry," Daniel whispered exhaustedly. "I'm trying…"

A sudden rush of footsteps and the trundling noise of a gurney being wheeled down the alley drowned out whatever else Daniel was going to say. Jack wished he could have heard. It sounded like it was going to be something profound, and might have given him a little more insight into what was going on inside the archaeologist's head.

Daniel had sounded so distraught before when he'd left the restaurant and now he was taking the blame for his own misfortune. A trait which he seemed duty-bound to display.

Jack shuffled aside to let the paramedics do their job, joining Sam and Teal'c in a small huddle, silently watching the bustle of activity around their friend.

There had been so much crap going down between them on missions recently. Jack never thought of himself as an eloquent man, not in the way Daniel could be, but he could make words work for him when he wanted to… emphasizing his meaning with a savage sting, and had done so too many times in the last few months.

He could wound with his tongue, but how often had he used the same tool to heal? Could the apparently widening rift between them be bridged by merely talking their differences through? They'd never needed to do it in the past… they had a kind of unspoken understanding to agree to disagree… seeing each other's point of view, but not compromising their own stand. But lately, somehow Jack had let things go too far, and yes, he knew it *was* mostly down to him. Daniel hadn't changed… except for having become a better soldier. Maybe that was the trouble… once he thought Daniel could comprehend the military way of things, Jack had perhaps assumed the archaeologist would be on his side more.

He should have known that wasn't to be. Daniel didn't go against him for the fun of it… because it was never any fun at all… Daniel did it because he could see something Jack couldn't… it was just what he did… and no one else could do it better.

One word… he'd said it once, on Euronda… 'sorry'. The look of surprise on Daniel's face as he'd apologized for being such a prick. He'd realized then just what he'd become, but did he do anything to rectify it?

"We've got room if one of you wants to come with us," called the paramedic leaning out of the doors, as he eyed the upright members of SG-1.

"You go, sir. He'll want you to be there," Sam said.

He will? God alone knew why. Where had he been when Daniel could really have done with back up in Egypt? Getting bitten to death by mosquitoes while trying to show Teal'c the finer points of fishing. Or when Daniel had gone into Ammonet's tent. Or in that alternate reality, when he'd gotten back to the storeroom to find Daniel surrounded by Jaffa, who had obviously been giving him a rough time. Or on Klorel's ship… leaving a civilian to watch their backs… and a damn fine job he'd done too, until he'd had half his chest blown away.

Jack nodded. He'd been so lost in his thoughts, he couldn't remember walking back out to the street. He fumbled in his pocket with fingers numbed from their compression efforts, to give Sam his keys, and then climbed into the ambulance behind the crew.

"See you there," she called as the doors closed in front of her face.

* * * * * * *

"I'm trying…" Daniel could only just hear the faint, cracked sound of his voice above the roaring in his ears. He had no idea whether his message would get through, but he had to try. Forming the words with his lips, he struggled to vocalize what he wanted to say, "but… it's so hard…"

On two levels Daniel was overwhelmed with the connotations of Jack's plea. 'Think you can stay with us?' From a purely physical perspective, he presumed it was possible. Though he felt like crap, he didn't think his wounds were bad enough that he wouldn't recover from them. Especially since Sam had told him medical attention was imminent.

But, and the 'but' was a big one… was there reason enough for him to stay?

Emotionally, he was shot to hell… and back.

So many people lost to him. Should he go now? Before any more of his friends could be cursed by him? Before any more of the small part of his soul which remained could be destroyed by guilt and blame and despair.

These past few months had been so bad. Not only from the numbing reality of having the hope of saving Sha'uri exterminated, but his relationship with Jack had changed. What had happened between them? One too many differences of opinion?

They'd always argued, but more with passion than with vehemence. When had things turned bad? It didn't seem to have been an overnight occurrence… not down to one event… just a gradual deterioration of their friendship. Now, Jack's comebacks stung more often than they amused. Was it something Jack was even aware of? Daniel thought he might be… Jack had said sorry once… but it hadn't made anything better.

A cacophony of noise filled his head… footsteps, voices, rumblings. Then once again the hands on him were gone. No! What had he said? His friends had deserted him. He should be used to Jack leaving him by now, he told himself. The colonel had rarely been around him lately. Daniel's opinion of the connection between them had gotten so low in fact, that he'd actually been surprised when Jack had led the rescue mission on P3X 888, to retrieve him from the Unas.

New fingers, different, probed and prodded, a sharp stinging in his arm made him turn his head to his left, but he couldn't see anything more than a shadow moving in the moonlight.

Where were Jack and Sam and Teal'c? The voices talking to him made no sense, asked questions he had no answers to, and even if he had he couldn't make his mouth work anymore. All he wanted was his friends with him… more than that… he wanted his *friend* Jack back… not the imposter whose actions had been bothering him for months.

Daniel sensed he was moving, he peered at the shapes surrounding him, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone he knew… *really* knew. Bright light suddenly flooded his vision, forcing his eyes closed, when he so badly wanted to see.

More noises, hands, things being done to the body that scarcely felt like his own. Cool, fresh air, untainted by the smell of garbage and month-old rainwater, like in the alley, breezed over his mouth and nose, and the rocking of the vehicle's motion soothed and detached him further as his limbs swayed gently in harmony.

The ambulance stopped at some unknown obstacle, vibrations from its idling engine reverberated through his nerves, and he panicked when he suddenly thought it was all wrong… he was slipping away without a fight… but what was there left to fight for?

He forced his body to move, though how much he'd achieved he couldn't be sure. He just wanted to feel he was still in control. He didn't want to be lulled… he had the right to choose his fate.

"Easy, Danny. We're nearly there."

We are? Nearly where, Jack? Is it somewhere I'd want to be? And do you really wanna be there too?

"Jack?" A million questions in one name barely carried to Daniel's own ears, his weak voice muffled by the oxygen mask over his face.

"I'm here. Just hang on."

A hand found his, and squeezed… grounding him… giving him something more than just flesh and bone to cling to.

"We need you, Danny, just hang on…"

And finding he really did have something left to fight for, he held on as tightly as he could.

* * * * * *

Jack watched the paramedics going about their routine, catching snippets of the medical jargon they threw back and forth at each other over the limp form of their patient… his friend.

He wondered why, with all the time he'd spent in one infirmary or another, both as victim and visitor, he still couldn't interpret much of what was being said. Instead he relied on the tone of the medics' voices and the franticness of their actions to give him a clue as to whether things were going well or not. They seemed calm enough… the situation seemingly under control.

Under the stark fluorescent lighting, Daniel looked too pale to be alive, yet the heart monitor blipped almost steadily and the breathing mask fogged faintly every so often, reassuringly confirming otherwise.

Jack lurched as the ambulance abruptly halted. He heard a few choice swear words filter in from the cab as the driver apparently gave a mouthful of abuse to an inconsiderate motorist who had gotten in his way. 

"Damn!" One of the medics cursed, as Daniel's body twitched, and the IV nearly wrenched from his arm.

Jack leapt across to the gurney, his eyes drawn by the erratic green line bouncing across the monitor. "What's wrong?"

One medic began re-taping the IV, while the other began checking the archaeologist over. "Don't know. Could be some kind of fit."

Jack didn't know which of them had answered… he didn't really care. He squeezed between them to get to his friend. "Easy, Danny. We're nearly there."

"Jack?"

Daniel sounded so lost… whether from the injuries, the treatment he was receiving, or just from being too close to the edge of an abyss of loneliness… something for which Jack considered himself personally responsible because of his actions of late.

Why had it taken him so long to realize he didn't want to push Daniel away, that he didn't want to lose this friend? But what could he do to put it right?

"I'm here. Just hang on." Jack found Daniel's hand lying uncharacteristically inanimate on the narrow mattress. "We need you, Danny, just hang on…" He altered his grip on the slender fingers and clasped tightly.

It wasn't immediate, but the response came like a careful embrace. The archaeologist's hand curled around his… understanding… acceptance… forgiveness… in one almost imperceptible gesture. Jack was never more grateful for Daniel's intuitive nature.

And he knew, with enormous relief, Daniel wasn't giving up on him… or life… just yet.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jack walked into the hospital room, wincing at the bright sunshine streaming in through the open blinds on the window.

The young man in the bed seemed unaffected by the glare even though it made the pages he was reading from gleam brilliantly.

"It's a bit light in here for you isn't it?" Jack asked as he strode across the floor.

Startled, Daniel's head snapped up. He blinked, then said warmly, "Oh hi, Jack." When the question he'd been asked finally filtered into his consciousness, he replied, "I like the sun."

"So, how come you have your office so gloomy?"

"That's artificial light, Jack… it's not the same."

There was a faraway look in Daniel's eyes and Jack could guess where the archaeologist's thoughts had drifted. "Here." Jack held out a brown paper wrapped package toward Daniel, who looked up at him quizzically. "I've just been to feed your fish. This came for you," he explained.

As Daniel studied the hand-written address, Jack watched the puzzled frown grow across his friend's brow. The archaeologist opened the parcel one-handed, managing the same ultimate care he utilized with rare and ancient objects, revealing a hard-backed book. The jacket was stylishly embossed with gold lettering, a boldly drawn picture of the Sphinx on the front and a photo of the author on the back.

Inside the front cover was a note.

"It's from Stephen…" Daniel told him, a mixture of bewilderment and delight capturing his features. 

"What does it say?" Jack asked, intrigued he had been trying to decipher the inscription upside down, but could only make out the names 'Daniel' at the top and 'Stephen' at the bottom.

"Um, well, 'sorry', basically," Daniel informed him, before dropping his head to read the words again.

"Not something you'd expect from him, I guess," Jack surmised from the tone in the younger man's voice.

"Not really," Daniel said, distractedly flicking through the pages, stopping every now and then to study some of the text.

"Any good?" Jack asked.

"It's well produced," Daniel replied, weighing the book in his good hand. "Lots of illustrations, a couple of old theories reworked, and from what I've seen, all based on solid, proven archaeological evidence…" he looked up at the colonel. "Of course, bearing in mind what we know about the validity of quite a bit of that, it's…"

"Complete and utter drivel?" Jack supplied

"In a nutshell…" Daniel nodded with a wry smile. "It'll make a good doorstop," he added as he dropped the heavy tome onto the bed.

Jack laughed. "So, book report over… are you ready to blow this joint?"

"I can go home?" Daniel looked up with surprise.

"Not *exactly*… Fraiser's organizing your transfer." Jack hated to wipe the childlike expectance from his friend's face.

"Organized, Colonel," Janet corrected as she entered the room behind him. "Good morning, Daniel, how do you feel?"

"A bit sore, Janet, but otherwise fine." Daniel pinned her with a clear stare. "I've been here days… do I really have to go to the infirmary?"

"Humor me, Daniel." Janet glared back, unintimidated. "We'll see how you are tomorrow."

Daniel turned his gaze to Jack, apparently seeking some backup for his cause. Unfortunately for the archaeologist, Jack was with Janet on this issue. He glanced again at the visible stitches and bruises on the young man's face, knowing there were many more concealed by the hospital clothing. The grim reminders of Daniel's injuries ensured his resolve didn't waver. "I think it's the best offer you're gonna get, big guy. I'd take it if I were you. Besides, it'll mean I won't have Carter and Teal'c moping around all day wondering how you are. They've set up camp in your office, trying to get it tidy for when you come back."

"Oh, they haven't…" Daniel cried, the horror of the thought of his work being disturbed plastered all over his distraught face.

"Only kidding." Jack held up his hands in defense. "Seriously, though they want you where they can keep a better eye on you," he said and then added, "we all do." 

"Okay," Daniel pouted his irritation at being teased, but it soon dissipated with the sentiments of the other words, leaving a serene and contented expression.

"Come on. We'll give you a hand to get your stuff together." Janet picked up Daniel's papers and pen from the bed, obviously unimpressed with his interpretation of the word 'rest'. Her hand hovered over Stephen's book, which had landed so that the photo of the man was uppermost.

She looked from the book to Daniel and back again, contemplative.

"What?" Daniel asked her, having noticed the attention.

"Just thinking," she answered cryptically.

"What?" Daniel and Jack now chorused, as the colonel's interest piqued.

"I was wondering how many scars you'd be missing if you'd chosen to go the same route as Stephen Rayner…"

"I'd probably still beat him on that tally," Daniel confessed. "He's not what you'd call a field archaeologist."

"Oh?" Janet was curious. "What do you call one of those… a historian?" she supposed.

"*Boring*," Jack and Daniel proclaimed together, then looked at each other, flabbergasted.

"How do you two do that?" Janet questioned with amusement.

"Do what?" they asked, turning to look back at her, smiling identically innocent grins.

Frustrated, Janet rolled her eyes and shook her head. Giving up on getting anything sensible from either of the two men, she pulled a bag from the bedside locker to start packing Daniel's things.

Jack held out a hand to help the archaeologist from the bed.

"Thanks," Daniel said, easing his legs from under the covers.

Gripping Daniel's uncasted hand in his tightly, Jack felt a discernable returning squeeze. He raised his eyebrows at the young man.

"For everything," Daniel added. He ducked his head shyly and cleared his throat before standing up, still clutching the helping hand.

"Geek." Jack affectionately ruffled Daniel's hair.

Daniel winced. "Am I still such a geek to you?"

Steeling the expression on his face, Jack replied, "Oh yeah, but at least you're not a *boring* geek."

A light snort burst from the archaeologist and two twinkling blue eyes peered at Jack briefly. "That's okay, then," Daniel said, reaching for the clothes Janet had quietly put out for him.

Jack chuckled as he grabbed the now stuffed bag. "I'll leave you two to get ready and sign the discharge papers. See you at the car." Janet nodded back at him as left the room.

* * * * * *

Using the actions of dressing as a disguise, Daniel watched Jack leave. This time he knew he didn't have to worry that the colonel was running out on him… leaving him in Janet's capable hands because Jack didn't want to be there himself.

There was a time he would have laughed at his insecurity. Having relied on his own wits for far too long, he found it incredible that he felt pretty much abandoned every time Jack allowed him to be borrowed by another team, or went off fishing without him, or had some military business of which Daniel wasn't informed.

Such was the unease that had been plaguing him for months. He couldn't be sure if the undercover mission to seek out Maybourne's rogue team had started it all, but it certainly hadn't helped. Jack's words denying the value of their friendship had cut deep into his psyche, but he hadn't thought it an irreparable wound… until mission after mission had induced harsher and more explicit criticisms.

Daniel pondered the last few days. A lot of healing had gone on… both in terms of his physical well-being and his relationship with Jack. They seemed to have rediscovered their understanding of each other, and he didn't want to let things slide so far off kilter again.

Hammond's car was parked in front of the doors as Janet and Daniel stepped out of the hospital, its engine running, Jack at the wheel. The archaeologist raised his eyebrows at the doctor.

"Jack thought it would be more comfortable for you to ride in than his truck," Janet explained on seeing his puzzlement. She opened the door and steadied him while he maneuvered into a position that would allow him to sit down without pulling his stitches too much.

Cautiously swiveling his hips to get his feet inside, Daniel grimaced and held his side.

"Easy, buddy, there's no rush," Jack warned.

"I'm fine," Daniel assured. Settled, he rested his broken wrist on his lap, letting Janet close the car door for him.

The sunglasses the colonel had donned hid his eyes, but Daniel knew they were studying him intently as Jack asked, "Sure?"

"Absolutely." Daniel smiled to himself as the colonel selected drive and pulled away from the curb. Jack did care… and he was just fine with that.

**The End**

  


* * *

  


> AUTHOR'S NOTE : Thanks to Jmas as always for pointing out my mistakes  
> (even though our email servers are trying to keep us from  
> communicating <g>). Oh, and a big thank you to Carrie, who had a  
> sneak preview of the initial draft of this story and whose plea for  
> 'more' elicited the extra whumping !

* * *

>   
> © June, 2002 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and   
> solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.   
> 

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